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The Party |
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Phil Ochs |
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The fire breathing Rebels arrive at the party early, |
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Their khaki coats are hung in the closet near the fur. |
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Asking handouts from the ladies, while they criticize the lords. |
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Boasting of the murder of the very hands that pour. |
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And the victims learn to giggle, for at least they are not bored. |
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And my shoulders had to shrug |
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As I crawl beneath the rug |
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And retune my piano. |
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The Hostess is enormous, she fills the room with perfume, |
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She meets the guests and smothers them with greetings. |
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And she asks "how are you" as she offers them a drink, |
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The Countess of the social grace, who never seems to blink. |
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And she promises to talk to you, if you promise not to think. |
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And my shoulders had to shrug, as I crawled beneath the rug |
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And retuned my piano. |
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The Beauty of the hour is blazing in the present, |
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She surrounds herself with those who would surrender. |
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Floating in the flattery she's a trophy-prize, caressed. |
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Protected by a pretty face, sometimes cursed, sometimes blessed. |
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And she's staring down their desires, while they're staring down her dress. |
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And my shoulders had to shrug, etc. |
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The egos shine like lightbulbs, so bright you cannot see them, |
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Blind each other blinder than a sandbox. |
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All the fury of an argument, holding back their yawns, |
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A challenge shakes the chandliers, the selfish swords are drawn. |
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To the loser go the hangups, to the victor go the hangers on. |
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And my shoulders had to shrug, etc. |
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They travel to the table, the host is served for supper, |
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And they pass each other for salt and pepper. |
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And the conversation sparkles as their wits are dipped in wine, |
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Dinosaurs on a diet, on each other they will dine. |
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Then they pick their teeth and they squelch a belch saying: |
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"Darling you tasted divine." |
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And my shoulders had to shrug, etc. |
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The Wallflower is waiting, she hides behind composure. |
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She'd love to dance and prays that no one asks her. |
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Then she steals a glance at lovers while her fingers tease her hair. |
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And she marvels at the confidence of those who hide their fears. |
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Then her eyes are closed as she rides away with a foreign legionaire. |
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And my shoulders had to shrug, etc. |
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Romeo is reeling, counting notches on his thighbone, |
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Searching for one hundred and eleven. |
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And he's charming as a child as he leads them to the web, |
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Seducing queens and gypsy girls in the boudoir of his head. |
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Then he wraps himself with a tablecloth and pretends he is a bed. |
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And my shoulders had to shrug, etc. |
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The party must be over, even the Losers are leaving. |
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But just one doubt is nagging at my caustic mind: |
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So I snuck up close behind me and I gave myself a kiss, |
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And I led myself to the mirror to expose what I had missed. |
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There I saw a laughing maniac who was writing songs like this. |
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And my shoulders had to shrug, etc. |